


Demons From the West

by TangentTeam



Series: Faithfull Oni [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangentTeam/pseuds/TangentTeam
Summary: Oni escape the crumbling world they once knew, fighting to survive in a land that they’ve only read about. Struggle is one of the few things these people know well, having always had their backs in a corner since the day they were born. But they are now the last survivors of their kind, in a new place with unfamiliar faces and threats behind every corner. They will only survive through the sacrifice of blood, sweat and tears… and many lives.





	Demons From the West

Small Lake 18:38 | Tuesday 3rd Jan 12-aNb (After Naruto’s Birth) | Unknown Land

A small group of people succumb to their exhaustion upon reaching their goal, a small lake in a large open field. Many of them fall to their knees lungs on fire and their bodies unresponsive after a toiling march. One thing that every person present shares is torn and tattered clothing. Three stand tall watching a few things, the stillness of the water, a distant set of eyes that has been on them for quite a while, and the exhausted folk they’ve been leading. All three of them are tall, but one stands a head taller than the other two. His build is considerably bulky, and his arms are scarred beyond recognition. Extraordinarily long hair falls almost to his knees, blue as the lake before them.

Similarly to his build, his voice booms. “This will work. I already feel safer, although this lake is nothing in comparison to Lake Shimesu back home.” His eyes were gazing of the body of water, a small inkling of home started to swell a tear that he blinked back.

“I agree Bunta-san, I didn’t think we’d find any water in the Land of Fields, but I’m glad we did. Neishin, I’m glad you convinced us of this direction. I suppose the risk to travel south wouldn’t be worth the danger.” His eyes are locked to where they came from, where anyone with a sensing ability could feel the presence of watchful eyes.

“We are not safe yet, Genzo, those eyes on us have yet to make their intentions clear to us.” Neishin’s crimson eyes never leave the direction of the watchful eyes, hand ready at a moments notice to equip his weapon.

Bunta turns his gaze away from the lake. “Genzo-dono, Neishin-sama, I don’t believe we should go starting a fight with them for now. They’ve been peaceful in their pursuit, likely the guardians of this land. Batting a hornet’s nest this early in our arrival will not prove to give us the longevity our kin died for.” He says succinctly, trying to quell the twice younger generations urges.

“I don’t wish to start anything yet, Bunta-san, the matter remains left in their hands.” Running a hand through his burgundy hair, he acts like he’s dropped all preparedness and looks over the two stood by him.

Bunta gives Neishin a respectful nod after seeing no argument from Genzo either. “I see Miyazaki is still awake, that’s good. I’ll work with him to set up the temporary shelters he’s got stored in those seals of his. You two should go meet with those scouts, but I would like to reiterate caution with the situation. Bring Soseki with you as well, he’ll be a good support if necessary.” He points to one of the other still conscious figures.

Genzo gives a curt nod in return. “Shall we then, Neishin?”

“We shall, Genzo, lead on.” Neishin gestures to lead the way.

The two walk over to the slightly elder Soseki, who stands and bows respectfully at their interest. Soseki’s build is quite average, and he is a good seven inches shorter than both Genzo and Neishin. He wears mostly black, the only color is his clan’s Mon, the Kanji for Wind. “My Lords.”

Genzo eyes him up and down. “Are you feeling what we are?” Soseki looks at the direction their followers were tailing from in response. “We’re going to go and meet them now. Are you coming?”

“Yes, Genzo-sama. I am well enough.” He responds, smoothing out his clothes and checking his blade.

The three move swiftly, disappearing into thin air as they speed closer to their stalkers. The ground blurs past them as they move faster than the eye can track. The reach the eyes almost instantly, surprising them. Two groups of three were their stalkers, and Neishin stands in the middle of one group, and Genzo in the other. Soseki stands in between the two, with both teams within the angle of his vision.

Hell breaks loose as quickly as it stops. Both stalker groups launch attacks at the would-be assailants, only to find them ineffective and with no retaliation. When the dust settles, they’ll find the kunai and jutsu they launched to have been totally avoided, with Neishin sitting casually upon an earth pillar, and Genzo surrounded by weapons in the dirt.

“Relax.” Genzo begins, dropping the couple kunai he caught in the attack. “We’re not here to fight, we want to gauge your reason for following us, that is all.”

The atmosphere shifts from pure tension to a slightly more relaxed tone as one of them steps forward. “My name is Kuga, I’m a Jonin of Kusagakure. I’m sure you’ve heard of it?” When he gets three heads shaking no, his confusion becomes apparent. “You’re shinobi, are you not? That was clearly chakra you just used.”

“We are Oni, not Shinobi, unlike you easterners.” Neishin offers an explanation to the Kusa-nin. “Though we do still use Chakra as you say.”

Kuga raises an eyebrow. “Oni? As in Demons?” He enunciates the words slightly different, to show emphasis.

“The very same.” The crimson haired Oni confirms, shifting his position on the earth pillar.

Genzo waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “We can save the cultural exchange for later. I know the ‘shinobi’ from the east operate in villages, not that dissimilar from our own. If you are a part of a clan, I would like to meet the Head. We want to establish a peaceful relationship.”

Kuga looks at the other five Kusagakure shinobi, and they all share a similar confused expression before he turns back. “I myself am not in a clan, but our village leader, if that’s who you’re referring to, wouldn’t waste his time with you. The Kusakage has more important things to worry about. I suggest you find another place to settle your group. I see those tents going up in the distance.”

Genzo’s eyebrows tighten slightly. “Kuga-san, was it? I want you to understand something. We are survivors. Our home is torn in civil war right now, we are the last surviving members of our clans. We have no other place to go, and we need a body of water to survive by. We will abide by the nation’s laws we are in, if that is your main concern.”

Kuga shakes his head. “I sympathize, but it isn’t that simple. I’m sure you’re aware of the political ramifications it could have if we were to have another group of shi- Oni around.” He catches himself awkwardly at their title, also noticing they wear no hitai-ate. “It would look poorly upon our village, as if we were unable to manage our own territory.”

“Or perhaps you would look strong, a nation that can manage more Oni than only those loyal yet they manage without issue. A sign of tenacity, wouldn't you agree, Kuga-san?” Neishin offers up diplomatically, dropping from the earth pillar to stand eye to eye with the group of stalkers.

Now Kuga sighs. “I didn’t catch your names, if we’re to do any sort of business we’ll have to begin there, then we’ll have to go with what you can offer Kusagakure in return for using our land. Something non-negotiable that I can tell you right now is that we would require your full and unwavering support in any military issues, if you are the equivalent of shinobi.”

“We would need to define the sorts of military issues you refer to. Patrolling any land you give you us would be ours to patrol alone, but anything else would again, need to be defined.” Laying out some sort of starting point and blatantly ignoring the call for their names, Neishin crosses his arms.

Kuga waits a moment to reply. “I’m not a true representative of my Village. We will have to have a formal session. I will explain the details to my Kage, and he will likely send a representative to talk with you. When that will be, I am unaware. For now, I will require that some of my men stay with you, to keep an eye on you. I’m sure you understand.”

“As long as it’s a temporary measure, and once an agreed upon deal is struck, you will allow us autonomy.” Neishin agrees while adding a further stipulation.

Now Kuga shrugs. “As I said, I am not a representative. I cannot promise anything. I am simply a tool for my Kage.” He turns to the group closest to Genzo. “You three will stay with them, keep an eye on them.” The three shinobi nod in unison. “I will return to Kusagakure and let them know of your situation.” He and the two shinobi closest to them wisp away in the other direction without a second word.

Now both groups of three idly look at each other, waiting for the other to act first. Genzo speaks up. “We’ll take you to meet a few of our conscious members. Fear not, we’re not going to be hostile. As I said, we want peaceful relations.” He nods to them slightly, and gestures for them to follow.

The six make their way back to the group of Oni, now tented and standing. Nine tents stand tall, each as large as the other, in a semi-circle facing the lake. Each tent could comfortable house fifteen people, with tatami mats laid inside. Each tent has a wooden board with a clan Mon etched and burned into each, symbolizing the clan each Oni comes from. Some tents hold more people than others. Only three others are still conscious, all three looking out over the lake. The rest of the Oni rest in their respective tent.

Bunta turns around from his view of the lake to the approaching group, twice the size of what left.  
“You’ve brought guests, Genzo-dono?” He steps forward to the group and bows slightly to the three Kusa-nin. “You’re welcome here as long as you want.” He brightens slightly, showing his age as wrinkles turn from one to many.

Genzo nods. “These men are from ‘Kusagakure’ the ‘Shinobi Village’ that protects the country we are in. They use chakra like us.” He states matter of factly. “They are here at their leader’s orders to watch us while he fetches someone able to talk the finer points of diplomacy.”

Bunta nods a few times during Genzo’s speech. “I’ve heard of Kusagakure, it was a place your father enjoyed reading about Genzo. The Shinobi that live there are known for their well-versed diplomacy. Something I’m sure you can appreciate.” Genzo looks surprised as Bunta responds, but keeps his silence as the elder turns back to the Kusa-nin. “Please, the tent closest to the lake only has Genzo-dono and I resting in, you can make yourselves home there if you wish.” He points to a tent with a wooden board that has three distinct waves etched onto it.

The three Kusa-nin nod together, and the one in the center steps forward and bows slightly. “Thank you for your hospitality.” His green hair flitters in the twilight, catching everyone’s eye. He couldn’t be much older than Genzo or Neishin. “We’ll take you up on that offer, but only after we take a moment to ourselves.” With that they move out of earshot, and consequently visual range.

Genzo gives a sigh of relief. “They are quite stuck-up.” He gives the katana hanging at his belt a slight tap. “But they seem skilled and organized. A friend they might become in the future, or perhaps a tool.” A pause. “What do you think of their skills? You’ve always been better at analyzing the enemies abilities without fighting them, Neishin.”

“They are indeed skilled, Genzo, though they lack knowledge of our ways. I could say the same for us, but I would say they would not fair well against us as we are.” Neishin stares at the area the three Kusa-nin went off in, never moving or flinching as he’s spoken too.

Bunta gives a wry smile. “I felt a power far greater than these three among them earlier, and what of him? Do you believe you could take him as well, even as you are?” He rests one of his hands on the Katana at his side.

“Given the right circumstances, yes, but as we stand we would lose.” The crimson haired Oni admits, though somewhat bitterly. “He has the advantage in both skill and knowledge of the local terrain.”

Genzo waves his hand in dismissal. “We’re concerned with those in front of us right now. We will have to gather information about Kusagakure from the source.” He locks eyes with Soseki. “When you are ready, take yourself and your family with you to investigate. If you get caught, we will not be in a position to help you, so I strongly suggest that you proceed with caution.”

As soon as Soseki bows, Bunta holds up a hand. “Genzo-dono, are you sure about that order? The shinobi from Kusagakure might give us the answers we seek. It would be premature to send off spies this early.”

Genzo shakes his head. “In this, Bunta-san, I believe you are wrong. Whether we send spies now or later, the consequences would be the same, and we need the information I want sooner rather than later. Such as the number of opponents, the average skill level, and the amount of them we could not hope to take on. I need to know how much to push everyone here.”

A long silence plays out before Bunta nods slowly. “I will concede that we do need this information. I would still like to suggest we wait at least until they send their delegation. Besides, the Watabe need to rest, they’ve been our scouts this whole time. Soseki-san has been worked to the bone.”

Genzo looks at Neishin for a response. “Let them rest for a few hours, but as soon as they wake send them out. We need the information, but we don't want any of our Oni dead.”

He shrugs toward Bunta. “If the Watabe clan is up for the mission, I agree with Neishin.”

All three Oni now look toward Watabe Soseki, the eldest of his clan of only which four remain. He bows deeply. “I will leave as soon as I can take them. I do not believe exhausted Oni will make for very good spies, my lords.” He speaks plainly.

He recieves a nod from Genzo, a smile from Bunta and a stare from Neishin. Genzo will put a hand on Soseki’s shoulder. “Take your time.”

It was at this moment that the Kusa-nin returned, with freshly picked berries. “I saw one of these bushes on the way here, they’re quite rare and bear the most delectable fruit.” The green haired shinobi holds up a basket of red berries. “Care to try one?” He offers.

 

* * *

 

Small Lake 10:19 | Wednesday 4th Jan 12-aNb | Land of Fields

The next morning was a grateful sight to many of the Oni who awaken from their exhaustion and travel wounds. A large bonfire burns softly in the center of the tents, surrounded closely by many sticks of freshly caught and skewered fish. Many of the Oni help themselves to the breakfast thankfully. An Oni stands at the break where the lake meets the ground. He stares at it intensely as he pulls his hair into the high ponytail that is standard amongst his clan. The ocean blue follicles fall down to his waist. It’s a rule in the clan that if you lose a battle, your hair is cut to balding. The Oni wears a blue keikogi tucked into black hakama, over the top he wears a white sleeveless haori, depicting the three wave logo that stands above his tent. He wears traditional wooden sandals and has a Katana and Wakizashi hanging at his side.

A crimson haired Oni flickers into view just to his left, a lone hand on his hip as he too gazes out over the lake. “They are nearly here, Genzo.” The Oni dons a set of black Oni pants tucked into very atypical closed toe Oni sandals, both slightly different from those worn by the Kusa-nin. His top half is brazeningly bare, sweat rolling down the length of his front. Around his waist rests a subtle red sash with a small pouch attached to the back. Lastly in his left hand is a crimson naginata, held at rest to his side swaying slightly as the breeze hits it.

“I don’t feel them yet.” Genzo answers after a moment. “We need to talk first anyway, Neishin. We’ve been walking for weeks, caring for the allies of our fathers. I say we continue doing so, and try to recreate what our fathers failed in doing.” He locks his gaze to the arrival. “We owe it to them, not just our lives, but our futures as well.”

“It won’t be easy, but I don’t want us under the foot of anyone. The Mazoku rule themselves, much like the Shimesu do.” Neishin agrees, his eyes seemingly distant as he stares at a sole point in the field, like he’s fully aware of whatever is there. “What does Bunta-san think of this idea?”

A shrug. “I don’t know. I just know that whatever deal we strike today with the Kusagakure ‘shinobi’, will not be one we uphold to the letter.” He looks at the same point in the horizon that his friend is. “We need to decide how to rule as well. A joint leadership over all decisions will only lead to a civil war.”

“By all means, lead us then Genzo.” Neishin turns his attention to his friend, looking as apathetic as ever. “Our fathers had it right, a Shimesu must lead the state while a Mazoku commands the Oni. However, unlike them, we were raised together and are friends not begrudging allies.”

Silence befalls the two for quite a while. The peace was broken unexpectedly from a yawning Bunta to their right. He walks toward them and stretches, and carries a set of folding stools in his right arm. When he reaches the two of them, he unfolds them and motions for them to sit down. Both Neishin and Genzo take a seat, facing the bonfire in the center of camp with the lake to their back.

“This is your discussion, Genzo-dono, Neishin-sama. I will be here to support you, but we will follow whatever decisions you two make.” He looks around the camp. “I heard some of your discussion, and if you want my take on the matter then you’ll have to see us through this first. They’re here.” He turns around just as a group of shinobi flicker into view, larger than the previous two. Bunta bows to them and takes a few steps back so he stands behind the teenagers.

A group of five this time, which adds to the three already present. Many Oni stand at the intrusion and watch the procession closely. One of the shinobi steps forward. Even Genzo can tell he is weaker than the other shinobi present by chakra alone, with his sensing abilities not nearly as acute as Neishin’s. The man bows slightly, only to show the barest amount of respect before standing tall again.

“The Kusakage has heard your plight and I am the messenger to his judgement.” The man begins, unfurling a scroll that hung at his waist mere moments ago. “To the order of the unnamed ‘Oni’, I, the Third Kusakage, declare these restrictions upon your settlement. First, you will abide by all Land of Fields laws and regulations. Second, any Kusagakure Shinobi that asks you to house or support them will be given full cooperation from your outfit. Third, you will report directly to Kuga, the Jonin you met first.” He furls the scroll back up and bows ever so slightly again. “I trust this is all to your satisfaction?”

As they were talking, a large grin was spreading across Genzo’s face, something that looks quite odd on the usually stoic teenager. “I believe you can trust one thing, ‘Voice of the Kusakage’.” He begins, standing from his stool. “If you believe us to be mere tools to use to the benefit of your village, then I will have to start nailing things down.” His metaphor seems to brighten the messenger slightly, as if his point was made.

In the next moment, many things happen. It was perhaps the quickest Genzo has moved in his entire life, surely the fastest anyone around him has seen him move. He unclicks his Katana and draws it as he darts forward, swiping at the midsection of the messenger. Neishin reacts almost the instant Genzo does, flashing the distance close between him and the center of the group of shinobi. Mid body flicker, he begins to twirl the Naginata in his hand, and when he steps out of the flicker, it cleaves it’s way through every shinobi in range, dropping most of them. The one single one that wasn’t hit by either attack finds a kunai dragging across his throat from someone smaller than himself. The eight shinobi all fall to the ground in unison as Genzo wipes and sheathes his blade in one smooth motion. Blood spurts from every cut made with most of the bodies in two pieces. A fountain of blood, perhaps the most satisfying end to the insult of both the Oni and their forefathers.

Bunta watches on the scene carefully, not reacting until the deed is done. “You made your choice. Now where will we go?” He states stoically, not giving any hint to his true feelings on the matter.

“If my mother’s map is to be believed, there is unclaimed territory a couple of days further north east.” Neishin answers, forcing the end of his naginata into the ground as he pulls out a crude map from his pouch. He unfurls it ahead of holding it so Bunta and Genzo can also see it clearly before pointing to the area he mentioned.

Bunta nods. “I know of it. I’ve also heard that many clans of shinobi wander that area, much like we do. To add on to that, it’s a place where most of the defectors of the Shinobi are to be found as well. It’s a hostile environment, not one to starting what your fathers failed in achieving.”

“Bunta-san.” Genzo turns to face him, a shocking shade of red ruining his white haori. “We have no choice. If that is where we must go, then that is where we will go. No traitor will be able to kill us, at least not while you’re here.” He nods at the senior.

Bunta’s face scowls. “That may be true, but when I am not, you will have to be at least as strong as I, or I will haunt you to your own grave.” He retorts, motioning to one of the figures by the bonfire. “Miyazaki, we must pack everything again. We are marching soon.”

* * *

 


End file.
